


A Royal Fuck Up

by WhoStarLocked



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety, Background Gladio Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Butt Dialing, Consensual, Cor is Prom's Dad Even Though He's Not, Deception, Embarrassed Prompto Argentum, First Meetings, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Multi, Nervous Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum Needs a Hug, Older Man/Younger Man, One Night Stands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic, Parent Regis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum Needs a Hug, Prompto Argentum is a Nervous Wreck, Protective Cor Leonis, Protective Regis Lucis Caelum, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoStarLocked/pseuds/WhoStarLocked
Summary: When Prompto receives a summons from the king himself, he thinks he's got to be in some kind of trouble. He certainly didn't think it'd end up with him in the king's bed.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Regis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 23
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everything mentioned/implied in this fic is 100% consensual. 
> 
> This is just a silly fic that popped into my head at 3 a.m., that my flatmate said I should write. Please enjoy!

Prompto never normally receives post other than bills, so naturally, he’s more than a bit surprised when he finds a letter addressed to him personally rather than to his parents. He spends a good minute just frowning at the envelope, at the fancy black script that his name is written in. It’s eerily similar to Ignis’ handwriting, but it’s not quite the same. 

Who the hell would be writing to him anyway? 

He opens it, taking more care than really necessary to make sure he doesn’t rip it, and almost has a heart attack when he’s greeted with the royal letterhead. 

It’s from the king. 

Prompto staggers his way over to a chair in his living room and sits, staring at the letter in wonder. Once his heart has calmed down even slightly, he slides the letter out of the envelope and unfolds it gingerly. 

_Dear Mr Argentum,_

_You are cordially invited to an audience with His Majesty King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII on 11/22/753 . Please arrive at the Citadel at 18:00. Formal dress is not required._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Incandesco Scientia_

_P.S. Please do not inform His Royal Highness Prince Noctis of this meeting._

Prompto reads and re-reads it about a billion times. A royal summons that Noct isn’t invited to? He can already feel nerves setting in about the whole thing, and it’s two days away. Maybe, if Noct isn’t involved, then it’s not to do with their friendship? Maybe it’s to do with his Crownsguard application, but then surely anything to do with that would have come from Cor? Prompto spends the rest of his evening wracking his brains, trying to think if he’s done anything wrong. 

By the time it gets to the day of the summons, Prompto is a nervous wreck. He picks an outfit - yeah, it says it’s not formal dress, but he can’t meet Noct’s dad wearing just _anything_ \- then changes it three times, only making it out the door at all because he’s gonna be late. He makes it to the Citadel by five to the hour, and he hesitates just outside the building. Is he meant to go in? He’ll probably only get lost if he does. He’s been here twice before, both times with Noctis and Iggy. But, if he is meant to see himself inside, he’s gonna be late if he waits. _Inside to where?_ He thinks distantly, giving in to the urge to chew his fingernails as he realises that the letter doesn’t actually tell him where the meeting will be. Surely, an audience would take place in the throne room? Not that that helps him, because he doesn’t have any idea how to get there. 

Prompto is trying to work up the nerve to find a guard and ask what he’s meant to do - even if it means probably making an idiot out of himself - when there’s the sound of echoing footsteps from the other end of the corridor. Prompto glances up, expecting to see a Crownsguard or maybe even a Glaive he can ask for help. 

“Prompto Argentum?” A deep voice calls out, and Prompto can only stare dumbly for a second. He’s never met Gladio’s father before, but there’s no mistaking him. Clarus frowns at him, and Prompto shrugs himself out of his stupor and belatedly stammers out a reply. 

“Uh, y-yeah. That’s me. I mean,-”

“Come with me.” Clarus says, turning around sharply. Prompto hastens to keep up with him as he moves swiftly through the corridors. His heart is beating double-time in his chest, thudding uncomfortably against his sternum. 

“Um, am I in trouble, sir?” Prompto asks, half a step behind Clarus. 

“I am not privy to the details of this meeting.” He answers without even glancing at Prom, and he sounds almost… offended?

Prompto can’t imagine that that means anything good. He doesn’t have time to even think of a follow-up question before Clarus is stopping at a set of double doors. Prompto gulps as the shield knocks briskly on the door. His heart is pounding as Clarus pulls one door open. There’s a rushing in his ears, so loud he almost misses Clarus speak.

“Prompto Argentum, your Majesty.” 

“Thank you, Clarus. Show him in.” Regis answers from within the room. Prompto stands on the threshold, well aware that Clarus is frowning at him, but completely unable to make himself step forwards. He only notices that he’s trembling when Clarus’ hand lands on his shoulder and pushes him into the room. 

The door swings shut behind him. It feels awfully final.

“Come in, won’t you.” 

Regis doesn’t sound angry at all, but Prompto’s stomach still flips. He glances up, worrying at his lip as he takes a shuffling step forwards. 

“Sorry,” He breathes, looking up to find the king watching him intently, seated at the head of a table. “Your Majesty!” He tags on, walking to the opposite end of the table. He can feel his face heat up, and he can’t help but squirm under the scrutinous gaze.

“Have a seat. I won’t bite.”

When Prompto finally works up the nerve to look up again, he finds the king sipping at a cup of tea, still watching him with interest over the top of his cup. Prompto nods his thanks as he pulls out a chair and slides into the seat a lot more gracefully than he thought he’d manage. Once seated, he digs his fingers into his thighs, trying to quell the trembling. 

“Would you like some tea?” 

“Uh, no, thank you.” It ends up coming out as a question, Prompto belatedly wondering if he can get in trouble for turning things down. Then again, he’d rather come off as rude than take a cup and end up spilling it all over himself because he’s so nervous. He ducks his head again, kind of wishing the floor would just open up and he could fall into nothingness. It’d spare him some embarrassment. 

“Very well. Now, Prompto.” Regis says, shifting in his seat, settling his elbows on the table and resting his chin on steepled hands. “I wanted to talk with you about Noctis.” 

“Am I in some kind of trouble?” Prompto whispers, barely able to make himself meet the king’s gaze. _This is the part where he points out what I am and politely tells me to stay the hell away from his son_ , Prom thinks weakly, trying to look anywhere but at the man in front of him. He doesn’t notice Regis blink almost comically at the question.

“Trouble? Not at all.” Regis chuckles, and Prompto finally properly looks at him. He looks completely at ease, content as he considers Prompto. “No, I simply wanted to meet the person who managed to befriend my son. Oh dear, were you worried?” 

Prompto finally manages to breathe properly for the first time since he read the letter. A massive weight lifted; he suddenly feels giddy. His breath whooshes out as relieved laughter. 

“Well, yeah, kinda.” He replies, relaxing back into the seat. “I mean, it’s one thing to be friends with Noct, but to get a summons from you, with orders not to even tell him about it?” He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought for sure I must’ve done something.” Prompto grins sheepishly. 

“My deepest apologies for worrying you.” Regis answers, the slightest smirk curving his lips. “It’s just that, in twelve years of school, you’re the only person Noct has ever made friends with. I wanted to meet you, but Noctis seemed determined to stop me. I think he thinks I’m being nosey.” The last bit comes out as a stage-whisper, like they’re sharing a huge secret, and Prompto finds himself having to bite back a giggle. 

“Well, to be fair to us commoners, it _is_ a bit daunting to just walk up to the future king, y’know?” Prompto says. Regis leans back in his seat, leaving one hand on the handle of his teacup, the other resting in his lap. 

“Can’t say I do.” The off-hand reply takes him by surprise, and Prompto snorts. 

Huh, the king has a sense of humour. Who knew?

“I guess you wouldn’t.” He admits. “Did…” Prom ends up trailing off and clears his throat. “Did he really never have anyone else?” 

Regis gives him a sad smile. “Really. I often worried that sending him to public school had been a mistake.” He sighs, glancing away from Prompto for a moment. When he looks back up, the sadness is gone, but there’s still a gentle smile on his face. “Then he met you, and my worries were alleviated. After meeting you in person, I can gladly admit they have vanished completely.”

Prompto feels his face heat. Gods, he must be so red. He’s totally flustered as he tries to come up with a response to that, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. 

“Six, you’re adorable.” 

Prompto looks up at Regis, startled. He doesn’t know what to make of the expression on the king’s face. _For an older guy, he’s actually really handsome,_ Prom thinks distantly, mesmerised by his eyes. _Green, not blue like Noct’s... They’re stunning._

“Uh, thanks,” He breathes, blushing even harder, hoping like hell that his thoughts - his totally inappropriate, out-of-place thoughts - aren’t showing on his face. Prompto doesn’t know what to do, or where to look, and gods only knew what kind of impression he was making on Regis right now. 

“You and Noct _are_ just friends, aren’t you?” Regis asks, when it becomes apparent that Prompto is lost for words following the compliment.

“Yes!” He blurts, mortified, looking up again only to find Regis grinning at his reaction, eyes shining with amusement. “Yeah, we’re only friends. I mean, not that he’s _not_ attractive, but I don’t- uh, I mean, we’re not- not that I _wouldn’t_ be - Oh, gods.” Prompto gives up, hiding his burning face in his hands as Regis laughs gently.

“Forgive me, I just had to ask.” He apologises, though he’s still grinning uncontrollably when Prompto peeks through his fingers. He stands, suddenly. “Come, let’s move somewhere more comfortable.” 

Prompto drops his hands from his face and follows Regis across the room and through a set of doors on the far side. Prom pauses as they step through, taking in the comfy-looking couches, the framed pictures of Noct on a mantlepiece, and belatedly realises that this is Regis’ _living room._

Apparently oblivious to Prom’s stomach-dropping realisation, Regis continues past him and lounges on one of the couches, just like Noct does. 

“So, Prompto, tell me a bit about yourself.” He settles himself further into the cushions, gesturing for Prompto to sit on the other couch with one hand. Prompto does, and even though it’s stilted at first, the conversation flows easily between them. Eventually they end up talking about Prom’s love of photography, and it’s only when he finds himself yawning after a long-winded and probably mostly-nonsensical explanation about how he thinks _anything_ can make an interesting picture that he realises they’ve been talking for almost two hours. 

“Oh, man, is that the time?” Prom wonders aloud, looking at the clock on the wall over the fireplace. “I should be letting you get on.” He stands and stretches, getting ready to leave.

“Oh my,” Regis says, following his gaze. “Time really does fly in good company. But please, don’t feel as though you’re keeping me from anything.” He sounds so sincere, Prompto can’t help but look back over to him. 

There’s a look in Regis’ eyes that Prom doesn’t know how to interpret, but it makes his heart speed up in his chest. 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind heading home.” 

“I’d much rather you didn’t.” Regis murmurs, standing and crossing the room slowly, and there’s something about his gaze that leaves Prompto rooted to the spot. He stops only a few feet away from Prom, and the atmosphere between them changes. Prompto can’t tear his eyes away from Regis, and his heart speeds up suddenly, a thrilling heat spreading across his skin as he watches Regis’ eyes drop slowly to his lips then back up again, questioning. He’s leaning in ever so slightly, close enough that Prom can feel his breath ghosting across his face. Prompto hesitates for a second, licking his lips as he considers all the reasons that this is a very, _very_ bad idea. Then, he closes his eyes and meets the king’s lips with his own.

* * * 

Noctis probably should’ve checked his caller ID when his phone rang, but he hadn’t been expecting any calls, so he’d figured whatever it was would be important. If he’d seen it was Prompto, he wouldn’t have picked it up at all. He knows Prompto is on a date or something tonight, cos he’d been nervous and jumpy through school all the previous day. 

But he hadn’t checked the ID, and he had picked up the phone.

“Hello?” He mutters, pressing his phone to his ear with his shoulder and continuing to play his video game. He can almost hear Ignis tutting at him in his head, but for once, he’s not actually here, so Noctis elects to ignore it. 

For a moment, there’s just a rustling sound, like maybe it’s windy wherever Prom is. Noct frowns, but just as he’s about to try again, he hears someone speak. It’s not Prompto, the voice is deeper, and it’s mostly masked. Noct can’t tell anything about the speaker, just that someone is murmuring. Then there’s more rustling, and _then_ he hears his friend. 

“Yes, _gods_ ,” He sounds breathless, and Noct pauses his game, jamming his fist in his mouth to silence sudden laughter. Six, Prompto has _butt-dialled_ him! Noct is so going to make sure his friend never lives this down. 

There’s a loud moan, and even Noct can hear the want in it. 

“Fuck,” Prom gasps. "I thought you said you _wouldn't_ bite." 

Whoever he's with laughs softly at that, then there’s more rustling and another groan, followed by a thud. _His phone hitting the floor,_ Noct’s mind supplies and with another stifled giggle, Noct hangs up. It’s not like he actually wants to hear that, and besides, he already has more than enough blackmail material for Prom.

He goes back to his game, and spends the rest of his evening smiling like the cat that got the cream. 

* * *

“How was your Saturday night?” Noct smirks, walking up to Prompto, who’s standing by the school gates. 

“Huh?” Prom frowns at him, hands stuffed in his blazer pockets as they begin to make their way inside. “What are you talking about?”

Noct grins, raising an eyebrow as he considers his friend. “Come on, I think you do.” 

“I really don’t.” He huffs, his confused expression morphing into a glare as Noct sniggers.

“Uh huh, sure you don’t.” He mockingly agrees. “Seriously, though, did you have a good time?” 

“What on Eos are you going on about, man?” Prom asks, slightly irritated. Noct bites back laughter. This is hilarious.

“On your date.” He clarifies. 

“What date?” Prom actually sounds perplexed, and Noct momentarily wonders if he’s misinterpreted something. “I didn’t have a date…” Prom trails off suddenly, going bright red. “Oh,” He says weakly. 

_Jackpot._

“Uh,” Prom clears his throat. “How do you know about that?” His voice has gone weird and shaky, and Noct lets out startled laughter, bumping shoulders with his friend.

“Dude,” He says, unable to hold back a grin. “You butt-dialled me while you were getting it on with whoever.” 

Prom’s face turns an even darker shade of red. Noctis thought it should’ve been impossible. 

“I did?” His voice is a barely-there totally undignified squeak, and Noct giggles and nods. This is priceless. “What exactly did you hear?” 

“Enough, trust me,” He grins, relishing in Prom’s obvious embarrassment. “So come on, anyway. What were they like?” 

“You’re asking - why do you wanna know?” Prom answers, cheeks still burning bright red as they make their way to their class. 

“I mean, were they hot? Are you gonna see them again? Gimme some details!” Noct says, rolling his eyes. 

“Uh… yeah,” Prompto sighs. “Dunno about seeing him again, I mean… we didn’t arrange anything.” 

Prom’s voice is still weird and Noct is probably loving this a little bit too much, really. It’s just so easy to wind Prom up. 

“Ooh, ‘him’.” He echoes. “Does he have a name?” 

Noct thinks it’s an innocent enough question - After all, what are the chances that he knows this guy? - but when he turns to look at him, Prompto looks stricken. 

“Nope. He does not.” Prompto eventually manages, and Noct stops mid-step, grabbing Prom by the arm to stop him too.

“Wait, do… oh my gods, Prom, I know them, don’t I?” Noct asks, looking at his friend incredulously. Prompto doesn’t answer for a moment. When he does, he pointedly refuses to make eye contact with Noct.

“We’re gonna be late to class.” 

Noct gasps as Prompto walks off, and he has to jog a couple of steps to catch up. 

“I _do_ know them!” He accuses. “Tell me! Tell me who it is!” 

Prompto shakes his head, still refusing to look at Noctis as they arrive outside their classroom. 

“Come on!” Noct grouches. “Is it someone in school?” Prompto sends him a scathing look. “Okay, not someone from school, then. Someone from around the Citadel? A Crownsguard?” Nothing. “A Glaive?” 

“Can you just drop it?” Prom sighs, looking at Noct reproachfully. 

“No can do, Prom.” Noct replies evenly. “I just wanna know who it was. That’s all.” He wheedles, and Prom’s blush comes back strong as ever. 

“Fine, it was Ignis!” Prom blurts as the door opens, and darts through the doorway of the classroom.

Well, that wasn’t the answer Noctis had been expecting. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long to update, writer's block is a bitch. Also apologies if it seems a bit jumpy, there wasn't really any way to connect the different parts together.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

_Ignis?!!_ Prompto cringes to himself as he walks into the classroom. What on Eos had possessed him to say _Ignis_? He throws himself into his work, ignoring every glance Noct throws his way from his table across the room. Ignis, Noct’s personal advisor, his friend, over _literally any other person on the planet?!_

 _It’s still better than the truth,_ He thinks dismally, his face still flaming. And at the very least, Noctis hasn’t immediately called him out on the lie, so he should really thank all the gods that Saturday must’ve been one of Iggy’s rare nights off from staying with the prince. That lesson, Prompto is the most productive he’s ever been, since he absolutely refuses to even glance at Noct, and therefore has no distractions. As soon as the bell rings, he shoves his things into his bag and runs from the classroom. He grabs his phone from his pocket as he leaves, scrolling through his contacts with desperation, glancing furtively over his shoulder for any sign of his friend. Noct thankfully hasn’t caught up yet. 

“Come on, come on, pick _up_!” Prompto mutters under his breath as he holds the phone to his ear. 

“Hello?” He hears in a crisp accent after what feels like an eternity. 

“Ignis!” Prompto exclaims, sighing in relief. “Oh thank the six. Iggy, please, you gotta help me!” He probably sounds half-demented, but at that moment Prom can’t bring himself to care. 

“Prompto, do calm down.” Ignis answers sternly. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Well, not _fine_ fine, cos I need your help, but-” Prompto cuts himself short, cringing internally at his rambling. “I did something really, really dumb, and I need your help.” 

“Oh?” Ignis sounds amused, and Prom can feel his face heating yet again. 

“I… may or may not have told Noct we slept together.” Prompto says. On the other end of the call, he can hear Ignis choke, and rushes to explain. “It was an accident, I swear! It’s just- I. I slept with _someone_ on Saturday, and accidentally butt-dialled Noct - I didn’t mean to! - and he kept asking me who it was, and I didn’t wanna tell him, and I just kinda said the first name to come into my head, which was you, and - oh gods, please help me!” 

“Okay, first of all, breathe.” Ignis tells him, although he sounds a little breathless himself. Prom forces himself to exhale shakily. Seemingly satisfied with whatever he hears, Ignis continues. “I take it you don’t want to tell Noctis the truth?”

“No!” Prom replies, way too quickly, his voice several octaves higher than normal. 

“Very well. May I ask why?” Ignis asks. 

“Because - uhhhhhh,” _Because it was his father_ , Prom thinks to himself while he tries to come up with a plausible answer. “He’ll kill me.” 

Prompto doesn’t realise he’s whispered the second part of his thought until he hears Ignis try to cover a smirk.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t.” 

“No, Iggy, he would!” Prom says, panic colouring his tone. “You don’t understand - he will actually kill me!” 

A faint sigh carries over the line. “Okay, can you tell me who it was?”

“NO!” Prompto all but screams down the line. “No one can ever know! Especially Noct!”

“Alright, alright!” Ignis answers, tone placating, having to raise his own voice for Prom to hear him. “Alright. I will help you if-”

“Thank you!” Prom can’t help but squeal, dizzy with relief.

“I didn’t finish.” Ignis huffs, and Prom whispers an apology as he forces himself to listen. “I will help you cover this up if, and _only if,_ you tell me the truth when Noct isn’t around.”

“Fine!” Prompto blurts. He can figure something out by then, he’s sure. All he has to do is avoid being alone with Iggy until he has his story straight. “Done deal. I owe you, like, a billion, Iggy.”

Prompto tries to sound sincere, but he’s not sure he pulls it off, considering how giddy he feels.

“Is that everything?” Ignis asks, and Prom can tell he’s smiling even over the phone.

“Yeah,” He sighs. He glances over his shoulder and finds Noct making his way over to him _. I have a story now,_ Prom thinks to himself, and manages to grin at his friend. _I just have to stick to it._ “I said it was Saturday, right?”

“You did.” Ignis confirms. “In that case, I shall see you both later.”

“You’re a life-saver, Iggy. See ya!” Prom ends the call and slips his phone into his pocket just as Noctis reaches him.

“Ignis?” The prince asks, folding his arms over his chest and fixing Prom with a disbelieving look.

“Ignis.” Prompto replies mostly steadily, blushing as he tries to think about anything other than how similar Regis and Noct look _. It’s only really their eyes that are different. Such a pretty shade of green…_ Prom blushes even deeper as his thoughts turn to that night.

Gods, he’s hopeless.

* * *

As it turns out, Ignis does not see either of them until much later. One of the day’s meetings runs over, and he ends up having to badger Gladio into picking the boys up from school. He busies himself making dinner as soon as he gets in, and Noctis seems content to ignore him in favour of gaming with Prompto until his food is ready. They eat in comfortable silence, the only sign that this day is different to any other are the somewhat-nervous glances Prompto keeps sending him. Ignis smiles briefly at him, hoping to reassure the boy, but if anything Prom gets closer to being panicked as the dinner continues.

“So, Ignis,” Noctis says nonchalantly, pushing his remaining food around his plate. “I hear you had fun hanging out with Prom on Saturday.” He stops playing with his food and looks straight at Ignis. It takes all of Ignis’ willpower to keep a straight face and sound calm as he replies.

“We did. Now, eat your vegetables.”

Noct’s jaw drops in shock.

Ignis smiles at him, quickly putting another forkful of food in his mouth. Across from him, Prompto has gone bright red, looking down at the floor like it might provide salvation.

“I thought you were lying!” Noct screeches eventually, turning to look at his best friend. Prom blushes even harder as he silently shakes his head. Noctis leans back in his seat with a huff. He still looks caught out, but he doesn’t seem angry, and after a few moments, Prompto seems to recover from his nerves.

Ignis can understand. He’s been thinking about it most of the day, about who Prompto could have been intimate with that would warrant anger from Noctis, and only one person springs to mind.

Gladio.

Ignis and Prompto are both well aware of the feelings that the prince is harbouring for his shield, and unfortunately they are also the only two that know those feelings are returned. Gladio is not the kind of person to just lay out his feelings - at least, not feelings of a romantic nature – instead burying them in nights out and meaningless flings. If Prompto had become one in a long list of Gladio’s conquests, then Ignis can absolutely understand why he’d be so worried. If Noctis had found out… well, it wouldn’t have been pretty.

* * *

“You’ll never guess what happened last weekend!” Noctis says over dinner. Regis grins as he looks up at his son. Noctis rarely speaks to him these days; he normally has to force conversation every Friday when they see each other, so to hear Noct start the conversation – and to sound enthusiastic – makes Regis feel warm. He raises an eyebrow, an indication for Noct to continue, as he takes a sip of wine.

“Prompto and Ignis slept together.”

Regis chokes, dropping his wine in shock as he splutters. His eyes water as he tries to catch his breath, heart beating a mile a minute. Noctis, thankfully, is preoccupied laughing at him. He does begin to mop up the split wine with a napkin, though, while Regis recovers.

“I know, right?” Noctis grins at him once he manages to regain his composure. “I couldn’t believe it either. I totally thought Prom was lying when he told me.”

“It is… shocking, to say the least.” Regis finally manages to answer. “How on Eos did that come about?” 

Noctis launches into the story, and Regis can’t help but blush furiously as his son explains how he’d come to know of Saturday night’s activities. He can barely focus on Noct – he’s all too painfully aware of how this could have ended differently. If Noctis had recognised his voice on that phone call…

_“I’m going to wind you up until you’re begging, and only then am I going to take you. Do you like the sound of that?” He murmurs into smooth skin, mouthing gently at Prom’s collarbone._

_“Yes,_ gods,” _Prompto gasps, shivering deliciously in his arms. He bites then, and his hands wander down to Prompto’s pants, making fast work of his belt and buttons as Prom moans._

He’d made good on that promise, and gods, had Prompto sounded beautiful.

It takes considerable effort for Regis to refocus on his son, though thankfully Noctis is oblivious to his wandering thoughts, still chattering away about how Prompto had been refusing to tell him who he’d spent his weekend with; how his friend had eventually named his advisor.

“I was sure he was lying, so I asked Iggy about it over dinner, and he just agreed. I was so shocked I even ate my carrots!”

Regis laughs along with him, and silently thanks the all the gods that Prom had thought to make a cover story for himself, _and_ that Ignis had agreed to help him. Most people wouldn’t have. Then again, Regis had been thanking the gods for Ignis for several years. He was sure that Noctis would be nowhere near the person he is now without the young Scientia, ever patiently guiding Noct in the right direction. He makes a mental note to thank Ignis in person next time he sees him, then artfully steers his son onto another topic of conversation.

* * *

The week following that phone call from Prompto has been hectic, and as yet, Ignis still hasn’t managed to corner the boy and confirm his suspicions about who he’d slept with. He’s heading to his weekly meeting with King Regis to discuss Noct’s progress in school and training, debating whether or not to just approach the topic with Gladiolus instead. It may come off as rude, but Ignis was sure to be able to grab a minute or two alone with Noct’s shield with much less hassle than trying to arrange to meet Prompto without the prince’s presence. At the very least, the worst of it was over – now that Noctis believed Prompto’s lie, he didn’t seem all that bothered. Aside from constantly teasing them, he’d made no mention of it. Prompto had stopped blushing after a day or two, though he still tended to clam up whenever the topic came up in conversation.

With a sigh, he pushes all thoughts of it aside, and knocks at the door to Regis’ rooms. He pushes his glasses up his nose as the door opens. He smiles briefly at Lord Amicitia as he makes his way into the office. The shield takes his leave, shutting the door gently behind him.

“Good morning, your Majesty.” Ignis greets, making his way across the room to where Regis is seated behind a table.

“Good morning, Ignis.” He answers with a smile. “So, to business. How is he doing?”

Ignis launches into his report, handing over Noct’s current grade sheets and training reports from Gladio and Cor, and just generally fills him in on Noctis’ life.

Regis ponders over the school reports for a long moment. Eventually he lets out a sigh.

“Please tell him if he doesn’t start passing History of Lucis then I’ll be taking away his apartment. Apart from that, all seems to be in order, although some extra elemancy training with the glaives wouldn’t go amiss.”

Ignis nods. “The prince has expressed a particular dislike for elemancy on several occasions, but I’ll see what I can do.” He gathers up his papers and stands to leave. “If that is all, I shall see you next week?”

“Oh, there is one more thing.” Regis says, setting aside copies of the reports Ignis has.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“I wanted to thank you for last week.” The king offers him a smile, and Ignis frowns.

“Last week, sir? I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” Ignis says slowly, racking his brains for anything of interest that’s happened.

“You know, for agreeing to help out Prompto.” Regis elaborates, his smile faltering as Ignis continues to stare at him, nonplussed.

“I don’t…” Ignis trails off. He’s hardly seen Prompto in the last week, let alone agreed to help him out with something, especially something important enough to warrant Regis’ attention. The only thing he’s done for Prom is cover up the…

The phone call.

“Oh, gods.” Ignis says, weakly. “It- it was you? I didn’t… he never said… I assumed… oh, _gods_!”

He grabs weakly at the back of the chair he’d been sitting in, then collapses into it gracelessly. His heart is hammering as he tries to process this new information. When he finally has the presence of mind to look at Regis, he finds the king wincing.

“I… take it, then, that Prompto had not told you who he _had_ spent Saturday with.”

Ignis laughs breathlessly. _Great, hysterical giggle fit in front of the king. My uncle would kill me._ He thinks distantly.

“I assumed it was Gladio.” He eventually manages to say. His voice still sounds uneven, and he forces a sigh out of his nose, gets his breathing back under control. “Prompto was right.” He realises suddenly, speaking his thoughts aloud. “Noct will kill him. _And me_.” Oh, gods, it would be awful. All these years he’s spent dedicated to Noctis, befriending him, getting Noct to trust him, to have it all blow up in his face over _this_. It would bring dishonour on his family, too, and oh gods why didn’t he make Prompto tell him _first?_ Then he wouldn't be in this stupid mess!

“Noct doesn’t have to know.” Regis’ firm tone breaks through Ignis’ spiralling thoughts, and he blinks once, giving the king an incredulous look. “If he is under the impression that it was you, and not me, that doesn’t have to change. I doubt Prompto is going to reveal the lie, and I _certainly_ won’t. I understand, however, if you feel obliged to tell him the truth.”

“I don’t know…” He whispers. This is not a predicament he’d ever imagined himself in.

“I will see to it that your wage is increased for your trouble?” Regis asks. He sounds desperate. “And should he ever find out about this, I will ensure that it doesn’t reflect badly upon you.”

Ignis still feels shaken. He takes a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order. He still can’t quite comprehend it. No wonder Prompto had been so panicked. Hell, _he’s_ panicked at the thought of Noctis knowing, and he’s not even the one who slept with Noct’s father.

He closes his eyes, bowing his head to his chest. Rubbing at his forehead wearily, he realises that they have no choice. Either all three of them keep this secret, or all three of them will have to face Noct’s reaction.

And if he’d thought Noct’s reaction to him finding out Prompto had slept with Gladio would be bad… Ignis isn’t sure whether or not he’s glad that he was wrong in his assumption. On the one hand, it meant Noct wouldn’t get his heart broken, and his friendship with his shield would be intact. On the other hand, the truth is so much _worse._

He nods.

Regis lets out a huge sigh of relief, then meets Ignis’ gaze.

“ _Thank you.”_ Each word is weighted; Ignis has never heard him sound more sincere. “I am so sorry for causing you undue stress.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” He lies, belatedly realising that through his near panic he’s crumpled the reports he’d been clutching to his chest through the whole thing. He smooths them out best as he can. Regis casts him a knowing look, but he doesn’t call him out on the lie.

Ignis takes his leave without waiting for a dismissal.

Regis watches him go, before burying his head in his hands and groaning. _If he’d only kept his mouth shut…_

The door to his rooms swings open again and familiar footfalls pass over the threshold.

“Clarus,” He says into his hands. “I’ve fucked up.” Regis looks up to see his shield walking over to him, smirking as he always does when Regis has to admit to doing something stupid.

“I’m hardly surprised.” Clarus grins at him, sitting down in the chair opposite him. “What did you do this time?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, heck, look at me actually finishing a fic for once! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read, left kudos, subscribed and commented on this! Knowing that other people are enjoying my stories is one of the best parts of being an author for me. I only hope that you all enjoy this ending.

“YOU DID  _ WHAT? _ ” Clarus’ enraged shout echoes through the corridor of the citadel. Gladio stops in his tracks just outside the King’s chambers, because he knows that voice means trouble. It’s the voice that used to send him and Iris ducking under their bed covers in vain attempts to hide from the inevitable telling off they were going to get. To hear it directed at King Regis is… unsettling. And hilarious.

“AN EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD BOY?!” His father screams on the other side of the door. Gladio bites his lip, the urge to laugh gone as suddenly as it came. Whatever they’re talking about, Clarus is well and truly pissed off, and if they’re discussing an eighteen year old… Gladio’s not sure he wants to know. He hesitates in the otherwise empty corridor. He needs to talk to his dad, but he sure as hell does not want to interrupt now and end up with even the tail-end of that anger aimed at him. 

There’s quiet for a moment, and Gladio steels himself to knock, but just as he raises his fist, his father yells once again.

“He’s WHAT?” Clarus’ voice jumps several octaves. “Do you even have a brain in your head?!” 

Gladio hears a much quieter, muffled protest. 

“Don’t you tell me not to be ridiculous!  _ You fucked your son’s best friend!” _ His dad roars.

Gladio’s brain stalls.

No _ way _ .

He couldn’t mean…

Surely they weren’t talking about…?

“You had  _ better _ be damn sure it was all consensual, Regis, or you’ll be the first Lucian King in history to be murdered by his own Shield!” Clarus spits out.

There’s a heavy sigh, and Regis speaks, too quietly for Gladio to make out any words. He blinks rapidly, still trying to wrap his head around what he’s overheard.

“Your son’s best friend, Regis!” Clarus is obviously still fuming. “An eighteen year old schoolboy!”

They had to mean Prompto.

They  _ couldn’t _ mean Prompto.

Gladio turns on his heel, making his way swiftly through the Citadel to the training rooms. He knows Noctis and Prompto are there, and he needs answers, right the fuck now. He storms into the room, crossing to where they’re standing waiting for Ignis, who’s nowhere in sight, and grabs Prompto’s shoulder, roughly turning the boy around to face him.

“What the hell, Prompto?!” He growls out, folding his arms across his chest just to stop himself from shaking Prom. Gladio’s building anger and confusion is totally derailed when Noctis barks out a laugh.

“Oh, you finally heard, did you?” Noct grins at him, completely at ease. Gladio’s jaw works in stunned silence as he stares incredulously at the prince.

“What, and you’re okay with this?” Gladio demands hotly, gesturing at Prompto with one hand. When Noctis merely shrugs, still smiling, Gladio feels like his eyes are going to pop right out his skull they’re open that wide. He can’t believe this!

“So he slept with Iggy, so what?” Noctis says, stretching his neck and rolling out his shoulders. Prompto is as still and silent as a statue in front of him, his face paling rapidly.

“Ignis too?!” Gladio shrieks.

Noct pauses, frowning at him before looking to Prompto. 

“‘Too’?” He echoes, glancing between them again. “What does that- Did… did you sleep with someone else, Prom?” 

Gladio watis, still glaring with arms folded. He’s enraged on Noctis’ behalf, because who does that? Who sleeps with their best friend’s dad, even if they’re not the fucking king?! He’s not exactly keen on Prompto - the boy is far too energetic and happy all the godsdamn time for him - and this is not earning him any brownie points. If Noct ends up hurt because of this… 

“No!” Prompto squeaks out. He’s still hardly breathing, his face getting greyer by the second. “I slept with Iggy last saturday and that’s it! I don’t know what Gladio’s talking about!” 

Prompto gives him a pleading glance as he stammers out his fake explanation, and Gladio sees red. How fucking dare he try and lie his way out of this? And not only that, but drag Ignis into it as well?! 

“Oh, really?” He growls out in response. “Well let me fucking remind you, Prompto!” 

Prompto cringes.

“How, in the ever-loving fuck, do you go from meeting the king so he can play overprotective parent to fucking him?!” Gladio roars, gesturing in a pointed ‘what the fuck?’ as he speaks. Prompto is flinching before him, eyes filling with tears. He’s about to give in and try to shake some sort of answer out of the boy, logic be damned when Noctis breaks the silence that had fallen after his outburst. 

“What?” 

Gladio glances to him, takes in his confused look, and grinds his teeth together. Noctis is hurt, and he’s going to pulverise the blondie for this. No one gets to hurt his prince,  _ no one. _ He ignores the possessive thought, long-used to hiding his true feelings for Noctis. 

“Prom?” Noctis continues, breaking Gladio’s train of thought. He sounds so hesitant, and it destroys a part of Gladio’s soul. “Is it true?” 

“I-I-I have to leave.” Prompto whispers, voice strained, and without looking at either of them he makes his way quickly across the training room and disappears. 

_ Good riddance,  _ Gladio thinks viciously to himself. His lip curls into a snarl as he watches him leave. A strangled breath soon gets his attention back on Noctis, and Gladio isn’t sure what to make of the look on the prince’s face. There’s a mix of hurt, betrayal, and upset, but it’s mostly hidden underneath the same simmering anger that Gladio is feeling. 

“Noct, I-” 

“Don’t.” Noctis cuts him off abruptly. “I’m gonna kill-” 

Gladio never finds out which party Noctis wants to kill. At that moment, Ignis makes his way through from the changing rooms, heeled shoes clicking smartly on the floor as he heads towards them. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” He says, adjusting his glasses. “A meeting ran over… where’s Prompto?” 

Noctis glares at his advisor, his eyes narrowed in quickly-building fury. “Did you know as well?!” 

Ignis falters, his apprehension obvious as he takes in Noct’s features. Gladio can only sigh, arms folded. He looks away, still trying to get a hold of his own anger. He grits his teeth, but it doesn’t help. 

“Know what? Have you two fallen out?” Ignis asks, glancing to Gladio for support. Gladio’s not in the mood to give it to him. If he did know, and he helped Prompto keep that quiet… well, then in Gladio’s opinion, he deserves Noct’s wrath. 

“Don’t fuck me around, Ignis!” Noctis yells, making both Gladio and Ignis jump. “You told me it was you! You said that to my face! Was it you, or was it my father?!” 

“Oh, that.” Ignis said weakly. “I didn’t know-”

“But you know now!” Noctis fumes. “What the hell?” 

“When I agreed to help, I didn’t-” Ignis tries to explain, but Noctis is not listening. He storms over to the bench where his training bag is, yelling as he goes.

“How can I trust an advisor who lies to me as he sees fit?” Noctis spits, not even glancing at Ignis as he gathers his things.

“Noct, I-” 

Gladio can hear the hurt desperation in Ignis’ voice, even in those two syllables, and he feels a slight pang of guilt. The fault here lies with Prompto for dragging Ignis into it, but he isn’t feeling generous enough to stand up for him, either. 

“Forget it, Ignis. I’m not in the mood to listen right now. Don’t come around tonight.”

Noctis’ tone is clipped as he shoulders his bag and walks across the training room without looking back. Gladio spares Ignis a glance - his devastated expression will probably stay etched in Gladio’s brain forever - before he turns and follows Noctis out of the room. 

* * *

Noctis ignores Gladio trailing after him as he makes his way through the Citadel. He’s furious, trembling, and gritting his teeth to keep himself from snapping at innocent Crownsguards and council members. 

His phone is in his hand, but Prompto isn’t answering, not that he’s really expecting him to. It’s smart of him, really. Gods know Noctis is about ready to strangle him, because  _ seriously? His dad?! _ but more than that, the fact he’d clearly gotten Ignis to lie for him about it is making Noctis furious. But, since he can’t get hold of Prompto, there’s one more person who warrants his anger right now, and the only thing that’s going to stop Noctis from seeing him will be a full-scale Niflheim invasion. 

“Dad!” He yells as he pushes open the doors to Regis’ rooms. He sees his father flinch at his tone, and five council members, and Cor and Clarus turn to look at him with expressions varying from surprise to disbelief and annoyance at the interruption. 

“Noctis, can this wait? This meeting-” Regis begins, but Noct cuts him off, fury overriding every bit of sense he has. 

“No, actually, it can’t wait.” He glares, and almost feels guilty when his dad winces again. The more vindictive part of him, though, is satisfied. “So dismiss your council members, or I’m gonna talk about it right here, in front of  _ everybody _ .” 

Noct watches with no small amount of pleasure as his dad’s face greys, and without ever looking away from Noctis, he croaks out:

“Everyone is dismissed.”

He waits in stony silence as people file out past him, throwing curious glances his way as he stands, arms folded across his chest to stop himself from doing something stupid. As the last person leaves and the doors swing shut, he can’t hold back anymore.

“ _ What the damn hell?! _ ” He screams, flinging his arms through the air. He probably looks childish, but at that moment he doesn’t care. 

“Noctis, I’m-” 

“What, you’re sorry? Oh, that makes it all better, doesn’t it, Dad?” He retorts scathingly. “You screwed my best friend - when I asked you not to even meet him! - but it’s fine, because you’re sorry!” 

Noctis sighs deeply, holding up a hand to cut off whatever his dad’s about to say to him. “Here’s a hot take for you, Dad. Maybe, if you didn’t want to hurt me, you should think about the consequences of fucking my best friend  _ before _ you do it!”

“I know, Noct. And I am sorry.” Regis says quietly. “It was stupid of me, and I shouldn’t have done it. I know that doesn’t make it any better, but…” 

He trails off, looking away from Noctis, a genuinely remorseful expression twisting his face. Noct feels the anger bubbling in his chest dissolving, leaving only the sharp stinging betrayal. 

“I just don’t get it!” He says, a lump forming in his throat. “I don’t get how you can only spare one night a week to spend with me, but you can find time to go behind my back, interfere in my life, and ruin the only friendship I’ve ever managed to have!” 

Noctis turns away, unable to look at the completely distraught look his dad gets at his words. He wraps his arms around himself, too overcome with hurt to speak anymore, even though there’s a million more things he wants to say. 

“Noctis, I-”

“Yeah, you’re sorry. Well, great.” He answers bitterly, scuffing at the floor with one shoe. 

“Please don’t blame Prompto for this.” Regis sighs, rubbing at his brow. “I should have known better than to invite that kind of interaction.”

“Whatever. I don’t care who should’ve known better, Dad. You lied to me about it! He lied to me about it! Even Ignis fucking lied to me about it!” Noct is almost on the verge of tears, and his voice is wobbly because of it. 

“Ignis didn’t know.” His dad mumbles, shifting in his seat. “Noct, I can promise you that. Ignis did not know who Prompto had slept with when he agreed to help him cover it up.” 

Noctis huffs. “Great, but he knows now, so he found out at some point.” 

His dad bows his head, eyes closing momentarily. “He found out this morning. I don’t believe for a second that Ignis would have kept this from you had he known sooner.” 

Noctis sighs, turning back towards his dad. “I just wish you wouldn’t do this. Was it so difficult to accept that maybe I didn’t want to freak out my only friend by dragging him round to meet the king? I mean, you never have time for me, why was meeting him so important?” 

“Noctis, I didn’t- it’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, you just always seem so distant these days. You rarely talk to me, I have to  _ force _ conversation out of you, I’ve been trying to give you space because I thought you wanted it!” Regis explains with a humourless chuckle. 

“So why’d you meet him, then?” Noctis asks, ignoring the mix of emotions churning in his chest. Here he’d been thinking that his dad cared more about the kingdom than him, and in reality he’s been trying to give Noctis space. There’s no small amount of guilt brought about by that statement, because Noct knows he has been distant with his dad in recent years, due to wanting a semblance of independence. 

Regis searches his face for a long moment, brow furrowed with concern. “I just wanted to meet the person who makes you so happy.” 

Noctis digests that for a moment, unable to look away from the floor. 

“I love you, Noctis. You know that, don’t you?” 

For a long moment, Noctis can’t answer. He doesn’t know what to say. He knows his dad loves him, he’s never questioned that, but there’s a difference between knowing that, and actually feeling that it’s true. Eventually he manages to nod, but he still can't make eye contact. 

“I am sorry I went about meeting Prompto behind your back.” Regis sighs, then looks down at his hands as he slowly continues. “And… I understand, if you can’t forgive  _ me _ for this, but please don’t hold it against Ignis and Prompto. If I had behaved as I should’ve, then this whole mess wouldn’t have happened.” 

There’s a quiet plea in his tone. Noctis takes a few deep breaths, finally managing to swallow past the lump in his throat. He can feel the remnants of his anger crumbling away, because he can’t bring himself to hate his dad. A part of him kind of wants to, wants to say ‘yes, I cannot possibly forgive this, ever’ and storm out, but deep down he knows that he can. So they’re both crap at communicating what they feel, he can hardly hold that against his dad and believe that he’s entirely innocent at the same time. And really, can he begrudge his dad wanting to meet his friend, after all the years he knows his dad spent worrying that sending him to school was a mistake? The whole sleeping with him thing is gonna take a while to get over, but he thinks he can move past it, given time. At the end of the day, two consenting adults enjoyed each other’s company. If he thinks about it like that, it’ll feel okay in a few weeks. 

He sighs deeply, finally looking up at his father. “It’s - well, it’s  _ not _ okay, but it will be. I don’t… hate you, though. Or Prompto. I guess it’s just gonna be weird for a while.” 

His dad sends him a shaky smile, and reaches one hand towards him. With an eye roll, Noctis steps around the table and lets himself be pulled into the hug. He can hear Regis’ breath coming unevenly, feels hot tears dripping onto his shoulder. 

“I never meant to hurt you, Noct. You’re my world. And I’m so sorry. I swear, I will make more time for you, okay? Just us, like when you were younger.” 

Noctis nods into his dad’s neck, clinging on tight. 

“Yeah,” He replies gently. “I think I’d like that.” 

He pulls away from him, and they exchange watery smiles. For a moment, there’s silence between them. Noct clears his throat and gestures awkwardly towards the door. 

“I should go,” He says quietly, and even though he only nods, his dad looks sad again. “Should talk to Prompto. And Ignis too. But, um… maybe we could have dinner together tonight?” 

Regis takes the olive branch for what it is, and nods again with a smile, eyes still shimmering with tears. Noctis returns it before he turns and leaves the room. 

Now he just has a best friend and an advisor to make up with. 

* * *

This time, when Prompto sees the pristine envelope in the mailbox, he knows exactly what it is.

So he ignores it. 

He leaves it in his mailbox to have plausible deniability, and continues on with his life, which now consists entirely of avoiding Noctis. It’s difficult, when they still share almost all their school classes, but every time Noctis tries to talk to him, he flees. He knows he fucked up, and he knows he hurt Noctis and he really doesn’t need the confirmation face-to-face that their friendship is kaput. Because it has to be, right? There’s no way Noct is gonna forgive him for this. Personally, he thinks he’s probably lucky that Gladio hasn’t tracked him down and butchered him yet. He’d certainly looked like he’d wanted to in the training room that day. Prompto sometimes flinches away from the memory of how furious the shield had looked. If he ever meets Gladio again in person, he’s so,  _ so _ dead, and he probably deserves it. 

He’d managed three weeks, before the letter arrived, and he manages another week after the letter, and he thinks he’s probably past the danger point. Surely, Noct knows that he knows now. It’s been a month. So, he’s kinda surprised when, one evening, a knock at the door interrupts his mediocre cooking attempt (he’d spent so long living off of Ignis’ cooking that he’s gotten rusty, and man, could he tell). Frowning, Prom makes his way to the door and opens it to find none other than Cor the freakin’ Immortal on his doorstep. 

Well, that’s one way for Gladio to make sure he ends up dead and not be held accountable. Cor seems like exactly the kind of dude who could watch Gladio annihilate him and then vouch for Gladio’s presence elsewhere in court. 

Prom swallows nervously, glancing around, but the Marshal is alone, frowning at him. 

“Um, hello?” He says, wincing internally at how terrified he sounds. 

“Hi,” Cor replies steadily. “You ready?” 

Oh  _ gods, _ he’s about to be murdered by Cor the Immortal for upsetting the prince.  _ How the fuck is this my life?! _ He thinks, and he doesn’t even realise he’s completely frozen up until he snaps back to attention to find Cor clicking his fingers in his face.

“Prompto?” Cor’s frown seems more concerned now, but he thinks he’s probably going to end up dead either way. “Are you feeling alright?” 

Prompto nods his head, forcing himself to breathe out shakily. “Ready for what?” 

His voice comes out strained, and he feels his face flush suddenly. He probably looks so stupid right now. 

“To go to the Citadel?” Cor asks, and Prom’s head shoots back up. “You were invited to dinner tonight.” 

“I highly doubt…” Prompto trails off, his eyes flickering over to the mailbox as he realises that the summons must be for today, not last week like he’d thought. He makes himself look back at Cor just in time to see his eyes narrow. 

“You didn’t open it, did you?” 

Prompto ducks his head, grabbing the edge of the doorway as he leans against it. 

“Don’t really need anything to be said to my face to know the friendship’s over.” He mumbles despondently. 

He hears Cor sigh, but he doesn’t look up. 

“That’s not-” Cor cuts himself off and draws in a deep breath. “They’re not inviting you over just to yell at you, believe me. And even if they were, it’s kind of illegal to ignore a royal summons, so will you please get ready to leave?” 

Prompto nods and turns back into the house, switching off the oven and stove mechanically before heading upstairs to freshen up. When he’s done, he grabs his phone then heads out, locking the door behind him.

Cor’s leaning against the car door, waiting for him. He still seems mildly annoyed, and Prompto guesses that’s his fault. He wonders what the penalty for being late to a summons is as they set off. 

“Don’t look so worried, kid.” Cor says as they pull onto the main road. “Noct isn’t mad at you.” 

“He should be.” Prompto mumbles feebly, looking at his hands where they’re curled in his lap. 

“Well, he’s not.” Cor sighs. “Look, I don’t know what went on between you two. I don’t  _ want _ to know. But I don’t want Noct to lose a friend, and I don’t think you want to lose him as a friend, either. So, why won’t you hear him out?” 

“He’s mad. He has to be mad at me. What I did was… wrong!” Prompto says, failing at keeping the guilt he feels out of his tone. 

“Why does he have to be mad at you? Friends forgive each other.” Cor points out evenly. 

Prompto shakes his head. “Not for this. He’s mad, and he has every right to be.” 

Cor sighs heavily. “Kid, you ain’t seen him in a month, he’s not mad at you for whatever you argued about. He’s a little butthurt you’ve ignored him for four weeks, sure, but not about the other thing. Take it from someone who  _ has _ seen him recently.” 

“But I slept with his dad! That’s so-” 

The car screeches to a halt suddenly, and whatever else Prompto was going to say is drowned out by a cacophony of horns and yells from other drivers. Shocked, Prompto looks over to Cor with trepidation. 

Cor’s grip on the wheel is so tight his knuckles are white, and he’s breathing heavily through gritted teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. There’s a faint smell of burning rubber wafting in, probably from the car’s tyres. 

“Um, Marshal? Ar- Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m going to kill him.” Cor says, sounding deadly calm. He restarts the car and continues driving like nothing out of the ordinary has happened, and Prom’s more than a little unnerved by it. 

“Kill who?” He gulps, still watching Cor closely. 

“Regis.” Cor replies lightly. 

Prompto swallows again, and dares not speak for the rest of the journey. Cor escorts him all the way to Regis’ rooms, where he finds not only Regis but Noct sitting at the table, food laid out in front of them. 

Noct smiles uncertainly at him. “Hey, Prom.” 

“H-hi,” He stammers back, glancing nervously between Cor and Regis. 

Cor glares at the king, and Regis mutters a profanity at the look that’s being sent his way. 

“You can kill me after dinner?” Regis says, and Cor’s eyes only narrow in response, but he exits the room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

“What’s with that?” Noct says, frowning at Regis. Prompto slides into the seat next to him silently. 

“I hope you’re ready to be king, Noct, ‘cause as of tomorrow you may well be.” Regis says, and it only half sounds like he’s joking. He sighs then, pouring a glass of wine. “Don’t worry yourselves. That’s something that Cor and I need to discuss.”

“Okay, weird.” Noct remarks, picking up his fork. “So anyway, Prompto. I asked you here just to clarify that I’m not mad at you.” 

Prom looks to him in sheer disbelief.  _ One more shock today and I think I’ll have a heart attack and die, _ he thinks to himself. 

“But-” 

Noctis sighs, cringing at his plate. 

“Yeah, not gonna lie, it’s weird. It’s gonna be weird for a while, but it’s okay. I mean, two adults had fun, right? Happens all the time.” 

“So you’re in denial.” Prompto says cautiously, trying to gauge Noct’s response. 

“Hey, I think even my therapist would agree that denial’s the best way to go with this!” Noct answers jokingly, but his tone falters, his smile crumbling. He lets out a heavy sigh. “I think I was mad that you’d lied to me, more than anything. Although, seriously dude, you have terrible taste.” 

He glances across to Prompto with a grin. 

Regis looks affronted, while Prom feels his whole face go bright red once again. 

“Shut up,” He mutters petulantly, which only makes Noctis laugh. 

A little bit of his anxiety dissipates though. If Noct is joking about it, then he really can’t be mad. Cor was right. 

After that, they settle into comfortable conversation throughout the dinner. Prompto eventually manages to relax, his worries about being hated finally put to bed. Noct explains how he and Ignis talked it out, and between them managed to convince Gladio he didn’t need killing. 

“It was kind of easy, in the end.” Noct says with a small, bashful smile as he pushes some peas around his plate. “He kept going off on a rant about how you’d hurt me, so I turned around and said ‘you sleeping around all the time hurts me more’ and he shut right up.” 

Prompto almost chokes. “What?!  _ Months  _ of watching the pair of you pine, and I miss the part where you finally hook up?” 

It’s Noctis’ turn to go bright red at that. “It wasn’t months.” 

Prompto shares a look with Regis, and then they dissolve into laughter. Noct glares at them both momentarily, but he gives in with an embarrassed smile. 

“You’ve yet to actually go out with him, though.” Regis says, looking to his son. Prompto watches with a fond smile, feeling not-on-edge for the first time since he’d met Regis. Hurting Noctis aside, he has absolutely no regrets about that night. 

“Saturday. He’s making it a surprise.” Noct answers, pulling a face. Regis chuckles, and Prompto jumps back into the conversation. 

By the end of the night, their friendship is pretty much restored, and Prompto is still smiling with relief and happiness when he’s dropped off home. 

_ Four months later… _

Prompto really should’ve anticipated that they would never, ever, let go that one time he slept with Regis. 

But alas, he didn’t, and now he has to put up with a stream of relentless teasing about it. A tiny part of him kind of wishes Noct still wasn’t okay with it, if only so they could never speak of it and move on with their lives. Not that he regrets it, at all. It was a good night, and if not for the absolute trainwreck it had caused for them, Prompto probably would have made it more than a one-off occurrence. Regis is pretty damn good, all things considered. 

“Oh, I have to drop in on Dad before we head out today Prom, can I trust you to behave?” Noct says in a goofy tone, a massive grin lighting up his face. 

Prom rolls his eyes, because it’s expected, and Gladio sniggers, draping an arm across Noct’s shoulders as they make their way through the Citadel. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” He sighs, sounding put-upon. Secretly though, he’d take this teasing every day for the rest of his life and still thank the gods each night for his continued friendships with Noct, Iggy, and Gladio (although that last one is sort of a new development). The outcome could have been so much worse. 

“It’s an honest question!” Noctis retorts cheekily. 

“I promise, I won’t sleep with the king… again.” Prom says, but he can’t keep a - only slightly embarrassed - smile off his face. 

“Well, there go my hopes of another pay raise.” Ignis sighs from next to him. 

“Huh?!” Gladio exclaims, all three of them turning to Ignis with bewildered expressions. Ignis notes this and grins wryly. 

“He tripled my wage to get me to agree to not tell you, and when you found out anyway, he kept it raised by way of apology.” He explains, sounding immensely smug. 

“And yet he wouldn’t increase my allowance due to emotional trauma!” Noct huffs, but they can all tell he doesn’t really mean it. 

Ignis scoffs. “Your allowance is already more than generous, considering you pay for absolutely nothing.” 

“Like your wage isn’t!” Noct returns, without missing a beat. 

“It isn’t. Your father would have to increase my  _ new _ wage by at least tenfold for it to be worth more than putting up with you.” Ignis snarks, grinning madly as he watches Noct try to think of a witty comeback. 

Prompto smiles, letting the familiar banter wash over him. He’s been ever so lucky, to find himself with such good friends in his life, and he knows he’d do anything to keep them. Whatsmore, he’s pretty sure he can. If they can pull through ‘slept with your dad and butt-dialled you while doing so’ they can pull through anything, right? 

He’s just glad he’s being given the chance to stick around and find out. 


End file.
